


The Website  Part 1

by ChaosRaynes



Series: The Website [1]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-20
Updated: 2017-04-20
Packaged: 2018-10-21 11:53:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 17,449
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10684767
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChaosRaynes/pseuds/ChaosRaynes
Summary: Sherlock receives a mysterious website and finds a woman that will either be his salvation or his ruin...which will it be?





	The Website  Part 1

I can still feel his lips against my skin. Sherlock. His hands skimming down to my waist. His breath blowing across the crook of my neck, where it meets my shoulder. The murmur of his voice in my ear. Holmes. I blink away the memory. Most of the time it feels like a daydream, like it never really happened...did it?

His phone pinged. The blasted thing had been quiet for days, he thought as he picked it up in annoyance. An e-mail...weird. Usually it was either a text or a phone call. Thinking it was from John or worse a boring, ordinary client. He set his phone down and walked away, set on ignoring it...when it began to ping away, drawing his attention back to the wretched piece of technology. It blinked, letting him know it would not be patient nor ignored. 15 e-mails now...fascinating. He swiped the screen, opening the e-mail app. All them where from the same e-mail address, every one of them with the same website and nothing more. No header, no signature, nothing. Just a website. He tried opening the website from his phone, but it was not mobile friendly...go figure. over to his laptop then, plugging in the website address from the e-mail. opening instantly to a screen that looked like a film, slightly low quality mind you, but a film nonetheless. He could hear music playing and could see a very generic room. Just as he was about to shut the entire thing down, he heard the most angelic voice come through his laptop speakers. He paused, finger hovering over the mouse pad. He had heard this song before, he just couldn't figure out where he had heard it before.  
"I don't know if you can see  
the changes that have come over me  
In these last few days I've been afraid  
That I might drift away  
I've been telling old stories, singing songs  
That make me think about where I've come from  
That's the reason why I seem  
So far away today  
Let me tell you that I love you  
That I think about you all the time  
Caledonia, you're calling me, now I'm going home  
But if I should become a stranger  
Know that it would make me more than sad  
Caledonia's been everything I've ever had"  
He couldn't close the site if he wanted to. That voice captured him like a rabbit in a snare. His mind palace pulled a name for the song the beautiful voice was singing, it was "Caledonia" by Celtic Woman. And she sang it beautifully, she was as good as the group. He had to see the angel that was producing such a wondrous sound. There, right there, was a button to change the camera to other rooms and angles. He flipped through them quickly counting 4 bedrooms and 3, well 2, living areas. And there, in low quality, was the angel. With her back to the camera, obviously unaware of being watched, she was normal. Well except for her voice. Sherlock noticed another button that changed the quality of the video. And change it he shall, he thought. The unknown woman's phone rang, as she went to answer, John Watson blew into 221 B Baker Street. Sherlock shut the lid to the laptop faster than he normally would, drawing John's attention. "What's going on Sherlock, what are you up to?" John asked. "Nothing, nothing at all John" Sherlock quickly answered. John looked at Sherlock and saw that he was lying, but the question was why?  
"Any cases?" Sherlock asked, just to draw John's attention away from him. "No, actually." John answered. "I sense a 'but' in that sentence." Sherlock stated. John wavered while heading for his chair. "Well, I received a strange e-mail," John started, "actually 15 of them to be exact, but I couldn't open the website in the e-mail from my phone." Sherlock jerked up in his chair causing John to look at him strange. "What's going on with you Sherlock?" John asked. Sherlock moved to his chair and steepled his hands together as he usually did while in deep thought. "Sherlock?" John asked. Sherlock sighed and thought he might as well tell him. "Well, John, I too have received 15 e-mails with a website that couldn't be opened from a mobile phone" Sherlock stated in a flat voice. "Odd, let me try my laptop." John replied. John pulled his laptop from under the table next to his chair and proceeded to plug in the website from the e-mail. John's laptop made a loud rejection noise, so he tried again. Same rejection noise. "Well that is strange indeed." Sherlock said, as he walked over to his laptop. Sherlock plugged the website back into his browser and was instantly reconnected to the video of the woman with the amazing voice. John came over and watched over Sherlock's shoulder.  
"Who do you suppose she is?" asked John. Sherlock sat mesmerized and answered vaguely, "Being that we have no cases at the present, I would like to find out." John considered Sherlock's answer, watching him stare at the screen, when John finally saw it...Sherlock's eyes dilated. It couldn't be, this mystery woman couldn't be affecting Sherlock like this. A man that felt that love and feelings of such were a dangerous distraction, was getting very interested in a woman. "What do you notice, John?" Sherlock asked, already knowing what he was seeing. John stepped behind Sherlock, looking at the screen in front of them. "Well, whatever she is typing on the laptop must be very important, seeing how her finger are flying over the keys." John stated. "No, no, no John, what is the most obvious thing you see?" asked Sherlock again. John just stared at the screen. Sherlock sighed annoyingly, "Look at her clothes, John, if I am not mistaken those are her form of pajamas." John glanced at Sherlock," Yeah, well, you are in yours as well." Sherlock pointed at the screen, " The window to her left is dark, and if you look at the mobile phone on her bed next to her, the time on it is 1:18 a.m." John glanced at the clock on the wall, "But it is now 6:19 in the morning." Sherlock grinned, "Which means she is not in London." Sherlock jumped up from his chair, grabbing his phone and began typing. What places are five hours behind London?, he Googled. John sat down and looked over the scene on the screen, trying to see anything else that would lend some clues as to who the mystery woman was. With the angle of the camera John could also see the tv screen fairly clearly, it was playing country music videos. "Sherlock, have you heard her speak?" John asked. "Hmm, what?" Sherlock said distracted. John repeated himself. "No, I haven't" Sherlock said frowning. John looked up at Sherlock in shock, "You have been watching this site for how long?" Sherlock mentally calculated quickly, " About 10 hours, give or take distractions." John was speechless for a few minutes, "And in all that time you have heard her speak?" Sherlock looked at his phone and saw his answer, kinda. "Well there are exactly 24 major cities that are five hours behind London, I feel sure we can rule out Haiti, Panama, Peru, Jamaica, Cuba and Colombia." John's brow creased, " How so?" Sherlock remembered that John was not present when the woman had been singing. "Because when she sings there is no telltale accent, which then leaves Canada and America." John shook his head, "Great, two large countries, or at least a portion of them."  
While they were distracted, trying to deduce the woman, neither one noticed that music had softly started playing. That was until the angelic voice started coming through the speakers, effectively stopping both men in their tracks. "Listen, John." Sherlock commanded happily, as the sound of a single violin played through Sherlock's speakers.  
"When I am down and oh, my soul so weary  
when troubles come and my heart burdened be  
then I am still and waiting in the silence,  
Until you come and sit awhile with me.  
You raise me up, so I can stand on mountains  
You raise me up, to walk on stormy seas  
I am strong, when I am on your shoulders  
You raise me up to more than I can be."  
John was standing behind Sherlock with his jaw dropped in utter astonishment. When the song was finished, Sherlock turned to John. "See, not a single accent that can be detected." John tried twice to say something, clearing his throat, "My God Sherlock, she is amazing, what song as that?" Sherlock had already started to search the internet for the song, "You Raise Me Up by Celtic Woman, she seems to be very partial to the group" he stated. John was about to respond when more music poured from the speakers, making John pull up a chair. Thinking they were going to hear her sing again, they leaned forward. Suddenly her phone rang. John and Sherlock looked at each other in anticipation. The woman looked at the caller ID and smiled, Sherlock instantly disliked that. "Hello, Hun," she said, " Is everything okay?" Sherlock grabbed paper, pen and his phone. He set his phone to recording her voice, talking normally and handed it to John, motioning him to hold it close to the laptop. Sherlock began to jot certain words down while the woman chatted on the phone. She hung up and the music came back on, quieter than before, while she went back to typing on her laptop. After an hour of typing, the woman saved what she was working on, shut down the laptop and headed to sleep. Sherlock had hoped to hear her speak some more, or even sing.  
"Well, Sherlock, anything?" John asked. Sherlock played back the woman's phone conversation. Listening carefully, he began to draw some conclusions. When the playback was finished, he set the phone down and looked over at John. "She is definitely an American, a famed Southern to be exact. From the use of "Hun" and owing to the fact that the hat on the key rack is half camouflage, the one license plate on the wall is fake diamond plate like a toolbox and both the hat and key chain on the key rack have Tarheels printed on them. I deduce she is from a region in North Carolina" Just as he finished talking his phone pinged back the answer to his question he had typed in. "The Tarheels is the name of the University of North Carolina teams, located in Chapel Hill, North Carolina." Sherlock finished, showing John the logo that matched the hat and plate on the wall. "But she may not actually live in that area, Sherlock. Maybe we could ask Mycroft to look into this a bit?" John said. "Absolutely not John, you know how he is, he would snatch her up, scare the devil out of her and try to warn her off of me just like he does with almost everyone else he thinks I have an interest with" Sherlock said pointedly staring at John. John nodded in agreement, thinking back about how many times Mycroft had done just the same to him.  
While Sherlock and John had been watching the live feed and deducing the woman, Mycroft had also received the e-mail. He also logged in, watching the same feed as John and Sherlock, but there was an extra camera angle on the page. One that showed Sherlock and John doing all their detective work on the woman. Mycroft minimized the website, while bringing up his normal feed of Sherlock's flat at 221 B Baker Street. He noticed that it was a slightly different angle than his own camera. "Hmm, I wonder who has managed to get into brother of mine's apartment and how did little brother not notice?" he wondered. He made some calls and got nowhere with a trace on the website and the camera feeds. Though he was able to find out who the mystery woman was. Then he heard the worst possible thing that day, Sherlock happily telling Watson to listen and smiling absently. "Oh dear, brother mine..." Mycroft said, shaking his head, "It seems we need to have a meeting." Especially since there was an extra camera in Sherlock's flat that should not be there. He would need more information before using his normal cloak and dagger tricks.  
It was 2 in the afternoon when Sherlock's phone went off. Snatching it up, hoping it was something on the woman, only to find out it was his irritating brother. Tossing his phone aside, ignoring it, he grabbed at his tea cup that Mrs. Hudson has set down moments earlier, sloshing it over the rim spilling hot tea on his hand. "Damn it" Sherlock growled. "Are you alright, dear?" asked Mrs. Hudson. "Yes, yes, Mrs. Hudson, just a text from my annoying brother." Sherlock responded, "Surely by now, he has found out what I have been up to." Another ping, but this time it was not his phone. As Sherlock turn to see John entering the room, "Ignore it, it's only Mycroft." John looked at his phone, he turned and showed the screen to Sherlock. "Need to meet. Car is out front. Don't make me order you Sherlock. Mycroft Holmes" Angry, Sherlock threw off his dressing coat onto the nearby chair, grabbed his suit jacket, outer jacket and John. "Come, before Mycroft has a heart attack." Sherlock grumbled. Shaking his head, John turned to follow Sherlock while saying hello and goodbye to Mrs. Hudson. Just as they stepped outside of their flat, a black BMW pulled up in front of them. Use to Mycroft's usual antics, they got into the car.  
They exit the car at The Diogenes Club, finding Mycroft in The Stranger's Room. "Well, Mycroft, to what do I owe the pleasure" Sherlock said snidely. "Let's not do this now, Sherlock, this is important. There has been a development, that you are currently unaware of." Mycroft said quickly. Mycroft produced two laptops, one being Sherlock's. "How did you get that..." John trailed off, trying to figure out how Mycroft could have possibly gotten Sherlock's laptop out of their flat. "You would be surprised, Dr. Watson, what my brother misses when it is deemed not important." Mycroft said. Sherlock snorted rudely. "This was recorded while your mystery woman slept, well not really slept, but you will see." Mycroft said, "I have not cut anything out, I promise." Mycroft hit play on Sherlock's laptop. The woman laid down, falling almost instantly asleep, tired from what looked to be writing a story on her laptop. About 45 minutes after laying down, there was a knock coming from the front of her flat. Groaning as she got up, making her way too the front door, she peeked through the peephole. Instantly smiling, she answered, "Hey Hun, what are you doing here so late?" She reached out to grab a distinctly male hand, at least a inch or so bigger than hers. "My flight came in slightly early and I couldn't wait to see you, I drove straight through from Norfolk." the male voice rumbled low. The woman pulled the man into view of the camera, he kept his back to the camera. She threw her arms around the man and kissed him, "I missed you. Where did your travels take you this time?" she asked. "London, my darling." he said, obviously smiling from the sound of his voice. Sherlock almost instantly despised this unknown man, who seemed to be so at easy with the woman.  
Shocked himself, Sherlock jerked slightly in his chair. John didn't notice but Mycroft did. Well, Mycroft thought, that is interesting. They returned their attention to the screen when the man spoke next, that almost made all of their blood run cold. "Miss me?" he said, in a distinctly snide way. "No, no, no, no" Sherlock stumbled. "Oh yes, brother mine, this is the main reason why we had to meet here and not at your flat. Well and you have a camera in your flat that shouldn't be there." Mycroft continued. John snapped his head around towards Mycroft, "A camera?" Mycroft spun his laptop round, clicking to bring up the same website. There was an extra camera angle that didn't belong, enlarged the angle, it was indeed 221 B Baker Street. Mycroft handed Sherlock a file folder, "This is the information we have collected on your mystery woman so far." Sherlock tried to focus to read the information, he would finally have a name, thanks to his brother. What a bitter pill that was to swallow, Sherlock thought. On Sherlock's screen, the woman and what looked to be Moriarty from the back continued to talk, while Sherlock quickly scanned the information on her. Sherlock spoke only for John's benefit. "Her name is Leigha Johnson. She is single and she is in danger if that is Jim Moriarty." he said in a subdued voice. The voices on Sherlock's screen almost abruptly ended, except for Leigha's voice. "Jim, what was that?" she asked, then almost collapsing to the floor. Moriarty caught her barely, setting her on her couch and turning to smile his evil smile to the camera. The video snapped out being replaced by Moriarty himself. "Miss me, Sherlock?" he asked, "I wonder how you think you are going to save the girl?" The video snapped back, showing Gabrielle walking with Moriarty almost like a zombie towards her bedroom. Moriarty came back into frame, "I've come up with a fun new game for us to play." Flashing back, Moriarty is laying her down on her bed and climbing in with her and touching her intimately. "Can you figure out what is about to happen?" he laughed. What followed froze all their hearts. Just voices, no video. "I am going to have my way with you and you are going to enjoy it, do you understand?" Moriarty's voice asked. "Yes." she answered mechanically. The boys listened to the sounds, Sherlock couldn't breath. "Stop it Mycroft, turn it off." John shouted. "No." Sherlock commanded. Moriarty came back on the screen, "So, Sherlock, how are you going to save the girl? Not like she will remember what was done to her, I have made sure of it." he laughed. Moriarty continued, "You know, Sherlock, the concept of soul mates is actually true. It is deep in the DNA and it seems I have your soul mate." Sherlock shook his head, Moriarty was just trying to bait him. Until the proof flashed on the screen. Sherlock looked to Mycroft. "It is true, brother mine, I had our scientist look over this material quietly." Mycroft sighed sadly. But not because his brother finally had someone, but because that someone was now in the hands of a consulting criminal. "Oh how I love to watch you dance Sherlock, you have 5 weeks to save her, or I kill her plain and simple." Moriarty said straight faced. The recorded messaged ended, Moriarty could be seen on screen, straightening his clothes and leaving Gabrielle's flat. Well apartment, Sherlock thought, since according to the file she is an American.  
"What are we going to do" John demanded, turning a color of red that was slightly alarming. "Do calm yourself, Dr. Watson. I already have a plan in the works." Mycroft said. "Working in conjunction with the Americans, you will fly in to Norfolk International Airport under your names, just so Moriarty will see that you are playing his game. But once you leave that airport, you will use a different identity to meet, try to charm and ultimately rescue the said damsel in distress." The angel's voice came across the laptop in real time, "What is this song?" she mused. The boys waited.  
Hey What's up it's been a while  
Talking bout it's not my style  
Thought I'd see what's up while I'm lighting up  
it's cold-hearted, cold-hearted  
Know it's late but i'm so wild  
Saw you're face and got inspired  
Guess you let it go, now you're good to go  
it's cold-hearted, cold-hearted  
ohhhh, ohhhh it's probably gonna sound wrong, promise it won't last long  
ohhhh, ohhhh if we can ever go back, thought you'd like to know that  
He won't touch you like I do, He won't love you like I do  
He don't know your body , he don't do you right  
He won't love you like I would, love you like I would  
She sat scratching her head, where did that song come from. She would have remembered if she had downloaded it.  
Sherlock knew who put that song on her phone. It was Moriarty and it was a message to Sherlock. "When do we leave?" Sherlock asked. Mycroft looked at Sherlock, "Dr. Watson, do you mind giving me and my brother a moment please" Sherlock stood, "We are wasting time, whatever you need to say can be said in front of John." Mycroft looked at the floor, "When you save her, what do you plan to do Sherlock? Keep her or let her go." Mycroft snapped his head back up to stare at his little brother intently, trying to gauge Sherlock's reaction. Sherlock turned slowly, his eyes darkening dangerously, "I plan to save her." Mycroft was taken back by the look in his little brother's eyes, "That is not what I asked, brother mine, keep her or let her go?" Exasperated, Sherlock snapped " I plan to keep her alright. Happy? How can I let her go knowing she is the other half of me?" John was taken back by the emotion in Sherlock's voice. Sherlock's phone pinged at that moment with the answer to the question he queried. "The name of that song is "Like I Would" by Zayn, if you are wondering." Sherlock said calmly. John cleared his throat, "So when do we leave and where are we heading to exactly?" Mycroft grabbed another file folder and handed to him, "Here are the alternate personalities using your middle name John and your actual first name Sherlock, these are the ones you both will use to get to her and induct yourself into her life if at all possible." Mycroft smiled fondly at Sherlock, "You leave in a week, good luck brother mine, and do try to stay out of trouble while in the States."  
The black BMW dropped them at home, where it seemed Lestrade was waiting for them. "Sorry Greg, no time to help you" Sherlock said as he walked past to begin packing. Greg Lestrade nodded in agreement, "I know, Mycroft has already had a chat with me. I'm taking you lot to the airport on the agreed day. So working with the Americans for an American huh?" Sherlock straightened, not liking the inflection in Lestrade's voice. "And your point would be, Lestrade?" Sherlock asked deadly calm, making John take notice. "Sherlock..." John warned. "Well, can I see who you will be saving or is it against the rules?" Lestrade prodded. Sherlock stalked over to his laptop, snapping the lid up while rapidly typing in the appropriate website. Strange that he had already memorized it, John thought, but then again this was Sherlock. The site instantly let him in. Lestrade looked over Sherlock's shoulder at a woman, who was currently typing away on a laptop. She stopped long enough to turn on what looked like a speaker and pull up some music on her phone. Music poured out of the speaker while she returned to typing.  
"That's the one you are going to the States to save? A bloody Yank?" Lestrade said loudly. "Actually not a bloody Yank, Lestrade, a bloody Southerner. Even worse wouldn't you say, I mean with the whole American Civil War." Sherlock angrily spoke, closing out the website. "But why?" Lestrade asked. "Oh now you sound like John, Lestrade." Sherlock sighed. "One word...Moriarty." John helped. Lestrade sharply drew in a breath, "Are you sure?" Sherlock nodded, "Absolutely, showed himself on video." Letting the breath out, Lestrade looked shaken. "OK, OK, right. So what do we know about her?" he asked. Sherlock didn't like Lestrade's interest in her but answered anyways. "Her name is Leigha Johnson, 36. Leigha was married once, divorce was finalized in 2010, when she was finally able to locate her missing husband. Whom at that time had two kids with two different women. She had a fiance also in 2010, they were together for about 6 years before he left to move to another state to be with his young son and the child's mother. Poor thing, seems like she didn't have any luck with love. But then this whole soul mate deal must be true then." Sherlock finished. "Do you believe in the soul mate gene?" Lestrade asked. Sherlock shrugged as his phone pinged with an e-mail. An e-mail about her, Leigha. He turned back to the laptop and lifted the lid. The website flared to life and there she was, yet again typing away at her laptop, with more music playing quietly in the background. So she was the type who needed slight background noise to work sometimes, like Sherlock playing the violin to help him think. Lestrade was about to ask another question, when he was stopped by a voice like he had never heard before.  
Come stop your crying, it will be alright  
Just take my hand, hold it tight  
I will protect you from all around you, I will be here don't you cry  
For you so small, you seem so strong  
My arms will hold you, keep you safe and warm  
This bond between us can't be broken  
I will be here don't you cry.  
Cause you'll be in my heart, yes you'll be in my heart  
From this day on, now and forever more  
Lestrade was left completely speechless. John nudged him and chuckled, "I was the same way the first time I heard her sing." Lestrade still just stood there staring with his mouth hanging open, irritating Sherlock. "Oh do shut your mouth Lestrade, it is very unbecoming." Sherlock snapped. "What was that song, it was beautiful." Lestrade asked. Before Sherlock could answer, John did. "It was You'll Be In My Heart, performed by Celtic Woman." Sherlock and Lestrade were both shocked that John knew the answer. "What?" John asked. "And how did you know that?" Sherlock wondered. John laughed, "I looked it up on my phone." Sherlock shook his head, "Time to pack and make sure we have everything we need."  
After landing safely at Norfolk International Airport in Norfolk, Virginia, Sherlock and John rented a car in the names of William Scott and Hamish Watts. John was furious, "Is this why you wouldn't show me my new ID?" Sherlock chuckled, "Maybe." With the car rented, GPS programmed, they started the four and a half hour drive to Jacksonville, North Carolina. "Well at least it is sunnier here." John said as they crossed over the North Carolina-Virginia state line. They drove on, through small towns and past larger cities, mainly staying on the highway. About an half hour before they reached their destination, he called the number that Mycroft gave them for his former CIA favor who moved into private protection firm. The contact had them set up in the apartment building that Gabriel lived in, luckily right next door to her. But since it was getting late, they couldn't pick up the keys until the morning. As they arrived at the hotel they would be staying in tonight, they set up a dinner to meet with the contact. The contact assured them to help them outfit the apartment and act as the movers, just in case Moriarty showed up. After finishing eating and wishing them well with the promise of seeing them at 9 am the next morning, they parted ways. Sherlock was exhausted but wired, in anticipation of engineering his run in with Leigha tomorrow morning. He relayed the plan to John, who thought it was pretty decent, as long as worked.  
Thankfully, they were able to sleep through the night and managed to get up at 9 am to meet the contact at the apartment building. As he walked past Leigha's apartment , Sherlock heard her singing. Sherlock made a few more trips, when he heard what he was looking for. The sound of laughter and running. "Come back here, you little snot" Leigha said, chasing a kid that John had bribed to help move boxes and ask to borrow her broom, which she had been using as per her schedule. The 17 year old skirted around Sherlock, but Leigha plowed head long into him. Sherlock dropped the box he was holding just seconds before she mowed him down. Seeing she was going to hit the ground first, Sherlock swung her around so that she landed on top of him. "Oh my, I am so sorry" Leigha profusely apologized. Sherlock caught his breath and opened his eyes, locking on to her golden brown eyes, they had flecks of gold and green in them. Interesting, he thought. "It's okay, I'm fine so long as no one was hurt. Are you okay?" Sherlock asked. "I'm fine, I think." she said, still laying on top of Sherlock. He noticed how well she molded to his frame, when she noticed the way they were laying. Turning red, she pushed up to get up from on top of him, "I apologize again, you must be the new neighbor." she said, "What a way to welcome you to the neighborhood." Sherlock laughed a real laugh, stunning John as he walked through the hall with a box, "Well thank you. I'm William Scott and this is my friend Hamish." Sherlock tried to deduce her, but could only get a few things, like a wall was forming and falling down all at the same time. Strange, Sherlock thought. "Hamish Watts, at your service" John said smiling his hundred watt smile, that he normally reserved for beautiful women. Sherlock cleared his throat, John at least had the nerve to look chagrin. Leigha laughed her laugh, making her eyes lighten up even more in color.  
A dripping sound drew John and Sherlock's attention. There was blood dripping from her elbow from where they fell. "Come inside, I have a first aid kit already pulled out. William tends to make friends with people's fists." John said laughing. "Oh, so you have the same personality that I have," Leigha chuckled, "I tend to say whatever is on my mind and rub folks the wrong way." John got some warm water and located the hydrogen peroxide, while grabbing his first aid kit. He started cleaning up the cuts to her elbow, "Well you are mighty handy Mr. Watts." she said smiling. "Oh please call me Hamish." John said. "I'm a doctor, so yeah I am kinda handy, I hope." Sherlock noticed that John was getting too comfortable interacting with her, making him jealous, until she turned those golden eyes to him. At that moment he could read her clearly, and what was this? Her eyes dilated, he would bet his favorite coat that her pulse jumped while looking at him. She was very interested in him...good. "And you Mr. Scott?" she asked. "I am a consultant." He answered. John went to place the large band-aid over the cuts, when she stopped him, "Is that a cloth bandage or latex?" John looked and said, "Cloth, why?" She smiled, "Oh just a dermatitis to latex." John smiled, "Ah, contact dermatitis." She grinned, showing slight dimples. John finished applying the bandage, "Well I appreciate the doctoring." she said laughing, "if ya'll would like, once ya'll are moved in, come over for tea or coffee. I always enjoy the company." Sherlock and John accepted, thanking her for the hospitality. She left, waving goodbye, while locking eyes with Sherlock. As the door shut, Sherlock remarked, "That was a little too easy." John nodded in agreement. "But, I rather like her, Sherlock. Aside from the us lying to her bit." John stated.  
"I dislike lying to her." Sherlock muttered, shocking John. "What, since when? When did you suddenly take an aversion to lying to people since you do it almost all the time?" asked John. Sherlock shook his head. Sherlock paced the apartment, stopping in the dining room. He could her music playing through the wall and her singing. John didn't know what to make of the situation. Sherlock mused, "Did you notice the ring on her left thumb?" John nodded that he did. "It's the infinity symbol repeated, she believes in ever lasting love. I don't know that I could give that to her." Sherlock said, worrying the floor pacing. "My God, Sherlock, stop pacing and just go knock on her door. She invited you to tea." John said with some slight irritation. Sherlock looked slightly green at the prospect of going alone, "Us, you mean. She invited us to tea." John smiled, "Yes, but she only had eyes for you." Sherlock began pacing again, but closer to the wall this time. Listening, he noticed the solid outlet cover. Grabbing a Phillips head screwdriver from the table, he proceeded to remove the outlet cover. Her voice came through louder. "I think I will go, you coming?" Sherlock asked. "No, beg off for me...jet lag or something or another." John replied smiling. Sherlock, out of habit, threw on his suit jacket while opening the door. A blast of heat hit him, "Well I guess I can forgot the jacket, which is rather nice for a change." Sherlock said. "Yes, very." John mumbled, drifting off to sleep.  
Sherlock moved slowly down the hallway of the building, unsure as to the reception he would get with it just being himself. Politely knocking, he waited. The music lowered before she opened the door. "Oh hello, Mr. Scott. Please come in." she said. "Please, call me William." Sherlock replied, detesting the use of his first name. "OK, William, then." she smiled. Never mind, he loved the way it rolled off her tongue in her southern accent. "Would you like tea or coffee, I imagine tea since you are British." she asked. Sherlock smiled at the stereo-type. "Whatever you are having is fine." Sherlock replied. He watched her move around the kitchen while pouring him a cup of coffee, which was what she was already drinking. She moved with a dancer's grace, so quiet, so light on her feet. As she placed the cup in front of him, offering him milk or creamer and sugar, Sherlock had to know more about her. "So if you don't mind me asking, what do you do?" he asked, "Other than sing so beautifully?" She blushed, "Oh, so you heard that huh. Well, if I ever get too annoying just let me know." Sherlock waved her suggestion away, "Never, you have an amazing voice." She thanked him and proceeded to answer his original question, "I ghost write, also write songs for people."  
They talked about anything and everything they could. "I hope I am not keeping you from anything important." Sherlock said. She, then, waved away his words, "No, usually it is just me here. Very little company. Just my sister on an odd occasion" she said frowning. "Boyfriend?" Sherlock asked, "I wouldn't want him to get the wrong idea if so." She looked down before she answered, "I thought so, but I blacked out one night and haven't heard from him since. So you're guess is as good as mine." she said sadly. "He was British, like yourself. So sweet. I guess I just don't have any luck when it comes to love, William." she confided in him, unsure of why she was doing so. "Maybe, he realized you were too good for him." Sherlock stated. She laughed, "That I doubt."  
A week later, Sherlock worked up the nerve to ask her out to dinner. John worried that Sherlock would bust a blood vessel trying to figure out the right way to ask. As Sherlock went to open the front door, he heard a crash and scream from Leigha's apartment. John shot up off the couch, following Sherlock. Sherlock banged on the front door but the yelling was too loud. Sherlock tried the door knob, thankfully it was unlocked. They busted in, only to find Leigha bleeding from a cut on her head and pinned down on the couch by none other than Moriarty. Sherlock grabbed him and tossed him away from her, while John pulled his gun from his jacket pointing it at Moriarty. "Well, well, well. About time. I thought you would never work up the nerve to be the knight in shining armor. You were boring me, you were being ordinary." said Moriarty snidely. Leigha slide slowly to the end of her couch, farther away from Moriarty and Sherlock mimicked her movement to keep her shielded from the criminal. "Get out." John commanded, gun still pointed at Moriarty's head. "Fine, but I will be seeing you again, my dear and we will be having some more fun." he said laughing, speaking to Leigha, taking steps closer to Sherlock. John cocked the gun, still trained on him. Moriarty whispered to Sherlock, "I can get her anytime, anywhere and you as well. You can't watch her forever before you will get bored. Soul mate or not, you will get bored. And then I will destroy you both. I will burn you." Moriarty turned and strode out the door. Leigha finally released the breath she had been holding and the tears. Sherlock sat down next to her and enveloped her in his arms. "What did Jim mean? Soul mates? What is going on?" she asked, question pouring out as fast as her tears. John went to check on her head. Sherlock just sat holding her, livid beyond belief that Moriarty would try this stunt. John looked over and saw Sherlock's face, "William, take Leigha next door and explain everything. She needs to know." Sherlock nodded, while helping her up.  
"William, please tell me what is going on." she implored. Sherlock sat her on the couch in his living room before answering, "As much as I adore you calling me William, please call me Sherlock." She looked at him, "What? What did you say?" Sherlock sat down in front of her on the coffee table, "My name is William Sherlock Scott Holmes, please call me Sherlock, all of my friends do." As she sat processing that, tears rolled down her cheeks intermittently. Sherlock leaned over and handed her some tissues, "And my friend is Dr. John Watson. He hates Hamish, which is his middle name." Realization dawned in her eyes. "I've read about you on the internet, solving crimes around London. But why are you here in America?" she asked. "Two reason," said Sherlock, "One, simply is you. You are my soul mate. And two, is you are in danger from Moriarty, who has a bit of a unhealthy fascination with me." Leigha chuckled, "Yeah I can see that." Sherlock looked perplexed. "He kept telling me that he could take me away from Sherlock and that he would do so painfully, he kept on and on. Talking about all the ways he could do it, scared the life out of me. I couldn't figure out who this Sherlock person was until you told me your name." she explained. "My God, I am so sorry that I didn't tell you earlier, Leigha. I actually had planned on asking you out to dinner tonight to explain it all." Sherlock said apologizing. "You were going to ask me out?" she said smiling for the first time since the incident. "Out of all that, and all you got was that I was going to ask you out." Sherlock chuckled. John popped his head in the door, "I take it we are going to be camping out here now?"  
"Either way, here or there, Moriarty will be expecting it." Sherlock said to John. Leigha looked at Sherlock and said, "Well?" Sherlock lost in thought, jerked. "Well, what?" Leigha laughed, "Aren't you going to ask me out?" Sherlock looked surprised, "Only if you agree with it and are feeling up to it." She nodded her agreement. "So what is the game plan, Mr. Holmes." Sherlock frown, "I said call me Sherlock, Mr. Holmes is my father." Leigha chuckled and agreed. "All I can think of, is taking you to London. On my turf, so to speak, easier to defend." he said. Leigha took a moment to think about what Sherlock had said, while accepting a soda from John. She laughed, "Sure, I don't see why not." Sherlock was not expecting her to be so level headed. "So, would you like to go out to dinner with me?" Sherlock asked with a small smile. She agreed.  
She asked Sherlock what he was in the mood for, the only thought that formed in his head was her. He was in the mood for her, but it was too soon to suggest that. "How about Chinese?" he asked. She agreed, stating that she loved Chinese food. She wandered over to her apartment to get ready, with Sherlock in tow. "John, do me a favor and keep yourself next door tonight." Sherlock pleaded, while pt in the hallway of the apartment building. John looked at Sherlock, "Are you alright?" Sherlock shook his head, "I need her John, I can't wait but after today... I don't want to scare her." John took a moment to think and reflect on what had happened today. "I honestly don't think you will Sherlock. She bounces back pretty well, if you noticed." John stated. Sherlock agreed to his statement. He left John to keep an eye on her while he went back next door to change and to give himself time to think. What if she refused him, after he tells her everything, especially after what happened today. How would he handle that rejection? These were the questions he could never ask John's opinion on. Sherlock Holmes may be the greatest consulting detective of his time but he was thoroughly uneducated when it came to women. They were a experiment that he never seem to have time for, but then none of them were anything like Leigha. She was kind, sweet, funny, understanding...she was everything. Sherlock gasped and quickly sat down.  
Love...He was in love. No. No, not the great Sherlock Holmes. It couldn't be, but there it was right in front of him. At the slightest thought that she would reject him, made his chest hurt. Dear God, he knew exactly what love was...a chemical reaction in the brain, that made some people temporarily stupid. He had seen it time and time again with John. He walked down the hall into his room, which shared a wall with Leigha's room. He heard her clearly singing, thinking that he was lucky to get sung to sleep every night. He sat on his bed, just listening to her sing.  
It's amazing how you can speak right to my heart,  
without saying a word you can light up the dark.  
Try as I may I can never explain, what I hear when you don't say a thing.  
The smile on your face, let's me know that you need me  
There's a truth in your eyes, saying you'll never leave me.  
The touch of your hand, says you'll catch me if ever I fall.  
You say it best when you say nothing at all.  
Sherlock could tell from the sound of her voice she was leaning against the wall right next to where he was sitting. He stood and gently placed his hands on the wall, right where her shoulders would be given her height. And he continued to listen to what she was saying to him.  
All day long I can hear people talking out loud, but when you hold me near  
You can drown out the crowd.  
Old Mr. Webster could never define what's being said between your heart and mine.  
The smile on your face, let's me know that you need me  
There's a truth in your eyes, saying you'll never leave me.  
The touch of your hand, says you'll catch me if ever I fall.  
You say it best when you say nothing at all.  
Sherlock didn't want to stop touching the wall, but he quickly looked up the song on his phone. She was singing Alison Krauss' version of "When You Say Nothing At All".  
The smile on your face, let's me know that you need me  
There's a truth in your eyes, saying you'll never leave me.  
The touch of your hand, says you'll catch me if ever I fall  
You say it best when you say nothing at all.  
Sherlock quickly downloaded it to his phone. He wasn't much for country music but he was learning to love it. It was a music that spoke to you sometimes. Sherlock's phone vibrated, he looked down...Mycroft. How could he almost forget his annoying older brother. Any developments? Mycroft Holmes. Sherlock shook his head, No hello brother mine? SH. The response was almost instant. Hello. Any developments? Mycroft Holmes. Sherlock would just send one more response and then do his normal ignoring of his brother. Almost. Going out to dinner. Leave me to work, My. SH. There that should do it, or irritate his brother enough to jump on the private jet and fly over here. Then it hit him, the exact way he could get her safely to London. But it could hold until after dinner, and hopefully...dessert.  
The moon was out and full as they headed to a Chinese place down the street that Leigha had ordered take-out from before. While waiting to be seated, Sherlock complimented her on her outfit. "Thanks, I usually don't have a lot of reasons to get semi-dressed up." She said as she looked at Sherlock from under her lashes. What a time to get nervous around him, she thought. The time they had spent together the last two weeks or so, should of prepared her for this. But this was an actual date, not just a sit down with coffee or tea. Her nerves were starting to get the better of her and Sherlock could see it. "Leigha, calm down please, you'll make everyone in here think I have abducted you." he whispered to her. She turned to him with a surprised look on her face, as they were lead to their table, and she laughed. "You're right, of course. I'm sorry, I don't know what has come over me." she replied. I can think of a few things, Sherlock thought, as he watched the thoughts fly quickly over her face. Her main thought was sex, of course. The waiter interrupted their silent conversation, asking for their order. Leigha flushed a bright crimson in the dim lights, as her thoughts ping-ponged all over the place. She tried to think of a safe topic of discussion, while staring at her place mat. Damn it, Leigha, think of something, anything. Got it, travel. As she looked up to ask a question about London, she realized that Sherlock was not in his seat but instead standing next to her. Her mouth formed a small o of surprise, that she had not heard him move. He came down to her level and whispered, "I've been wanting to do this all day, if I may?" She closed her mouth and nodded her head that it was alright.  
Sherlock leaned forward, lightly gripping her jaw, until their lips met. It was like fireworks going off in Sherlock's head, and her taste was better than any drug he had ever tried. He knew then that he would never get enough of her, as he struggled to pull away from her. Leigha's mind shattered, fragmented. Not one coherent thought could form in her head, all she could think about was Sherlock and getting another taste of him. He tasted of spearmint and man, slightly wild and fully ready to take what he wanted. "Thank you." he whispered. All she could do was nod and smile slightly. Come on, Leigha, get a hold of yourself. She took a deep breath and tried to organize her thoughts. Sherlock watched the thoughts and feelings run across her face. Intriguing...lust, happiness, some slight sadness, lust, thoughts of must have more, Sherlock saw. He wondered where the slight sadness came in, "Why sadness?" Leigha started, not expecting to hear him ask the question so soon. She let out the breath, still a bit unsteady, "Sadness because I don't know what to expect and how long this will last." Sherlock nodded, thinking if he had his way, it would last for the rest of their lives. He looked to the infinity ring still on her thumb, which she was unconsciously rubbing with her first finger. Well at least she is also considering it, or at least hoping the same, he thought. She began to steer the conversation into safer waters for her, asking all kinds of questions about London. Sherlock explained that ,yes, they would be on his home territory, they could do some, if not all, the tourist traps as long as the threat to her was not too great. She seemed thrilled at the prospect of seeing London and hopefully Ireland, and Sherlock surprised himself by being just as happy to show it to her.  
Sherlock was again surprised that he was enjoying the evening as much as he was. The food was superb, the conversation witty and stimulating. Almost the perfect evening in his opinion, even if it was the first evening in the company of a woman who wasn't looking to "punish" him. Leigha didn't honestly want the evening to end, so she suggested a walk near her favorite spot, the New River. Since she knew the area so much better, Sherlock suggested she drive them there. She chuckled as she agreed, siting that she was much better suited to driving on the right side of the road. Sherlock laughed and agreed that Americans were backwards. She faked taking offense and lightly slapped his arm. When they arrived at the park, the gate was closed. She pulled the car further down the road, out of sight. "The moon will give us enough light to see to get in." she pointed out nervously. As they began walking into the park, Sherlock took her hand, lacing his fingers in hers. She looked down, smiling, guiding him through unfamiliar territory. "When we first moved here, my ex-fiance and I came here to walk and spend time together on sunny day. It started off as a rather cool day but grew warm enough not to need jackets. I was able to get some really great pictures." she old Sherlock. "I would love to see them one day" Sherlock told her. Honestly he thought, he would really like that a lot. They reached the end of the path, which lead out over the New River slightly. The sound of lapping water hitting the wooden pier was soothing. Leigha wished he would kiss her again, but she was too nervous to make the first move.  
Sherlock watched how the moonlight played over her hair, accented her high cheekbones, showing a trace of Native American heritage. In his mind, she was beautiful and she didn't even know it. Sherlock pulled her arm until she stumbled and bump against his chest. He held her upper arms so she didn't fall and looked down at her. Her eyes had dilated to the point that they looked black, he slid his hands down to her wrists. The pulse there was rapid and her breathing was fast and shallow. There was no denying that she wanted him. "I'm going to apologize now." he said. She wanted to ask for what but her throat had gone dry and didn't want to work, she knew for what he was apologizing in advance for. The wildness she sensed in him, tightly tethered and ruthlessly controlled, was at its breaking point. Sherlock leaned down, making her lean her head back to see him. He held her tight against him as he crushed his lips to hers, making her gasp. He walked her backwards until she bumped against the railing of the pier, his hands trailed down to her waist. His lips trailed along her jaw to that sweet spot on her neck. She could feel his breath, feathering lightly across the crook of her neck and shoulder. "I don't think I can wait, Leigha." Sherlock gasped leaving her neck to return to her lips. Her body went pliant against his, a moan escaping her. She managed to pry her eyes open and focus, "Home, then?" Yes, Sherlock thought, most definitely home.  
How they managed to make it back to the apartment alive, amazed Sherlock. Leigha seemed to be driving on autopilot. On the way, Sherlock texted John asking him to clear out of her apartment. John replied that he would and he would see them in the morning and to have a good night. God love John, Sherlock thought. Leigha slammed the rental car into park in front of the building, snatching the keys from the ignition. Rummaging through her bag for her house keys, Sherlock pinned her against the door with a searing kiss. He pulled back, jingling the keys in his right hand. She focused on what he had and laughed, "My God, I feel like a horny teenager out on her first date." Little did she know how close to home she hit with that statement, Sherlock prayed and hoped he wouldn't disappoint. As they strolled inside her apartment, she asked in that sultry southern accented voice of hers, "Nightcap?" Sherlock figured it couldn't hurt to have some liquid courage, "What have you got." She dug around after unlocking a cabinet, "Not much, I really don't drink often, but I have some of a typical Southern favorite, Jack Daniels or some Jim Beam if you would like." Sherlock debated, "I will have whatever you are having." She laughed, "Very diplomatic, Sherlock." He shook his head. "No, that would be my brother. He is the diplomat, not me. I'm just the screw up consulting detective." She stopped dead in her tracks, "Sherlock Holmes," she said sharply, "I may not have known you for very long, but don't you ever let me hear you say that about yourself again. And so help me, if I ever hear of your brother saying it either, God help him." She set the drink down in front of Sherlock and he thought that famous Southern temper would be a refreshing wake up call for his brother.  
Sherlock shook his head, stop thinking of Mycroft. Think of Leigha, right here, right now. There we go Sherlock, back on track, he thought to himself. He watched her slam back her drink and was about to do the same, when he thought to ask what exactly she had poured them. She laughed and told him she had poured her favorite, Jack Daniels, southern whiskey. He was amazed that she slammed it without a wince nor a tear in her eye. She had some Irish in her. He wondered how she would do with some Jaimeson's Irish Whiskey. He tossed his drink back, feeling it burn all the way down to his stomach. She poured herself one more, offering Sherlock another finger of whiskey. He declined. She knocked it back like a pro. Suddenly her head snapped around to him, "I don't think I want to meet your brother, I might do something completely unladylike, like punching him." All Sherlock could do was laugh, "I have those moments all the time with Mycroft." Leigha sat next to Sherlock, enjoying the way his face lit up with laughter. "Mycroft? Seriously, what kind of name is that?" she mused. Sherlock brushed his knuckles down he cheek, "Let's not talk of my brother." She stood and offered her hand to him, leading him to her bedroom, cutting off the dining room light as they went. The moon was pouring in through the window, drenching the bed in silver.  
"If we are going to fast let me know." Sherlock said. She nodded okay. His lips were like fire on her skin, as they fought for sanity and to remove their clothes. It was as if this would be their last night, frantic hands, harsh breaths. Sherlock came close to missing the creak of the door and the almost silent foot fall. Spinning around to put himself between Leigha and the unknown threat, he heard the disembodied voice speak. "Isn't she sweet? I know why you can't wait to get with her but then people do get to sentimental about their pets, or in this case, their new toys." Sherlock grew livid...Moriarty. If only I had a gun, thought Sherlock. The apartment was pitch black, they couldn't see anyone or anything. There was not enough moonlight coming through the window to provide light. "Do you know what happens if you don't leave her to me, Sherlock?" Moriarty's voice continued. "Oh let me guess, I get killed." Sherlock said in a flat voice, he couldn't let emotion get the better of him this time, not when they were so vulnerable. "Kill you? Well, no, don't be obvious. I mean I'm going to kill you anyways, someday. I don't want to rush it though. I'm saving it up for something special. No, no, no, no. If you don't leave her to me like I said, I will burn you. I'll burn the heart out of you." said Moriarty angrily.  
"I have been reliably informed that I don't have one." Sherlock said calmly. "Oh but we know that's not quite true." Moriarty said pointedly, stepping slightly into a beam of moonlight. Sherlock heard the telltale click of a gun. "She is coming with me, Sherlock." Moriarty said. "No, I don't think so." Sherlock retorted. "Oh, but I do think so my dear." Moriarty chuckled. Sherlock heard the puff of the CO2 cartridge as it fired the invisible projectile,a sedative dart. Pushing Leigha back into a corner to make sure it didn't hit her, Sherlock felt the bite of the dart. Fighting to stay awake and upright, Sherlock made his way towards Moriarty. "Damn!" he thought to himself, as he fell to the ground. Moriarty leaned down to whisper to Sherlock, "We are still playing the game Sherlock, who will win? You or me. My bet is on me." he laughed. "Come and save her before I burn the heart out of the both of you." Sherlock still tried to fight the sedative pumping through his system, hearing Leigha fight and yell his name. "Come, my dear, it's time to go home." Moriarty laughed. Home was the last thought Sherlock had before the sedative took full effect.  
"Sherlock!!!!" John yelled, scared at seeing his friend passed out on the ground, in the mid-morning light. "What's happened? Where's Leigha? Are you alright?" Sherlock felt like his head was about to explode, it must have been that bloody elephant tranquilizer they shot me with. "John, not so loud please. It was Moriarty, he took her and shot me with a tranquilizer dart." Sherlock said quietly, for fear his head would pop off if he spoke too loud. "Any idea as to where he has taken her?" John asked. Sherlock struggled to remember the last few things that were said before he went under. "Help me up." Sherlock asked. At least in the sitting position, his head didn't feel as bad. Sherlock grabbed his phone from his pocket, there was only one person who could get them back to London quickly...Mycroft. Moriarty took her. Need ride home. Come at once. If convenient. SH. Sherlock didn't honestly expect a rapid response, partly due to the time difference. What happened? Mycroft Holmes. Of course his brother wanted details when time was of the essence. No time. Details when you pick us up. If inconvenient, come anyway. SH. His phone stayed blessedly silent after that. Sherlock looked up at John, "Moriarty said to her that it was time to go home. And so it is."  
After being tranquilized, Sherlock sported dark sunglasses while waiting at the airport for the private jet to land and take them home to London. And closer to finding Leigha, Sherlock thought. Watching the plane coming towards them so it could refuel and get back underway to ferry it's two newest passengers home, John looked worriedly at Sherlock. Knowing he had to be taking this hard, John hoped that Mycroft would have some tact and not take it out on Sherlock. Mycroft stood at the open door, staring down at his brother, noting the fact that Sherlock had not shaved at all. How unlike his brother, this must be really getting to him, Mycroft thought. As the men boarded the plane, Mycroft asked, "What happened?" Sherlock relayed the events of the night before, ending with Moriarty's threat, taking Leigha, and saying that it was time to go home. "My God, Sherlock. He tranquilized you?" Mycroft asked. Sherlock nodded that it did indeed happen. "Let me sleep, My. When we get back to Baker Street, I will answer all your questions." Sherlock pleaded. Mycroft knew it was bad if Sherlock was calling him My, which he very rarely did, unless it was to annoy him. Mycroft nodded and left him to lay down on the longest place he could stretch his lanky frame across. Once they were in the air and fairly sure Sherlock was fully asleep, Mycroft questioned John. Answering as much as he could to what events he could, "I wasn't present last night Mycroft, Sherlock asked me to stay next door." Mycroft's head snapped up. "Why, why would you do that Dr. Watson?" Mycroft hissed. "Because, Sherlock is my friend and he wanted some time alone with his soul mate." John snapped back.  
Sherlock heard them whispering between themselves as he dozed off and on during the flight. He would have slept but every time he went deep enough into real sleep, he heard Leigha yelling his name. The fear in her voice was real and Sherlock blamed himself for not being able to save her. If he had only texted his brother when she agreed to go to London with him, instead of asking her out on a date like a horny teenager, then she would still be with him right now. Not in the hands of Moriarty, with him doing God knows what to her. Those images filtering through his head were the worst, he could envision everything that Moriarty could do to her. Through his dark sunglasses he could see John constantly looking at him, worry creasing his brow. He wanted to reassure his friend, but didn't see how he could since he couldn't even reassure himself.  
Already back in London, after getting a nice head start on Sherlock, Moriarty walked around Leigha. "We are going to have some fun burning the heart out of him, my dear." he laughed. "Well! Actually, in the end, you will be ripping it out." She struggled against her bonds, "Never!! I will be damned if I help you!" Picking up a syringe and showing it to her, "Oh, my dear, when I am done with you, you won't have a choice in the matter!" Moriarty laughed evilly. "Lights, camera, ACTION!!" he yelled. The camera light snapped on and focused on the scene before it. "This is a little teaser trailer that I will play for Sherlock at a later date." he told Leigha. "I want him to watch as I break you. I want him to feel your pain every time you scream. I want him to die a little each time he sees you bleed." he said with a slight smile to his voice. Another man walked over to a small rolling table filled with a wide variety of torture devices. "Don't have the balls to do it yourself, Jim?" Leigha snapped. "Oh no, my dear, I don't get my hands dirty." he replied calmly, "Now let's begin."  
The silent man turned his back to Leigha as he chose the item he wanted to start this session off. "I can't wait to mold you into a fine gift for our dear Sherlock." Moriarty laughed, the light on the camera flashing as it recorded. The man's arm moved, quick as a snake, making the taser connect with Leigha's skin. She screamed long and loud. Her hands bound above her head, she couldn't do much to get away from the pain. She watched the man's feet every time he moved to strike her or hit her with the taser. There, she thought. She waited for the next strike. She saw the telltale shift in the man's feet just before he struck out at her. Leigha let her weight drop as she swung backwards, like she was on a swing. Swinging forward, she snapped her legs up to kick the man hard, in the chest. The man skidded back, rubbing his chest, a murderous glint in his eye. "Well done, you." Moriarty said, clapping sedately. "Well, you should have known that I wasn't just some simple, poor little Southern belle." Leigha growled. The crackling of electricity reached her ears. She couldn't stop her back swing. Screaming, she struggled to take herself out of reach of a second man she hadn't seen, as he placed another taser to her skin.  
After shocking and beating her, off and on over a span of a couple of hours, she was cut down and thrown into a small, dirty cage. My God, how she hurt, she thought. "Sherlock..." she whispered, wishing he could hear her. Sighing, she realized how utterly tired she was, she tried to doze off. It felt like she had only been asleep for a minute or two, when she was snatched out of the cage and strapped down to a large table. Moriarty began his pacing around her once again, smirking, while the camera was being set up. "Just one more scene before I start destroying your love, my dear." Moriarty smiled. Leigha inhaled as quietly and deeply as she could, while Moriarty leaned over her to brush a stray hair out of her face. Acting like she was recoiling from his touch, she spit in his face. "Go to hell." she hissed, "I won't be the pawn in your sick game." Moriarty froze for a moment before grabbing a rag near his elbow, wiping his face. The camera flashed to life. The same man that she had kicked, grabbed her arm roughly, ripping the sleeve from her shirt. Another man stepped up to stand at her head, standing ready. The first man snatched up a syringe and jabbing it in her arm, making her cry out in pain. He smiled sadistically at her. She swore to herself that she would continue to fight, so she could ease anything Moriarty did to Sherlock. He would see her fighting and stand strong.  
Moriarty leaned down to look at her, "I'm going to warp you and you learn to hate and destroy what you love, do you understand?" She struggled not to answer, but it slipped out against her will. "Yes, I understand." She said, growing angry. Moriarty saw the fire of anger burning in her eyes, "Good, that's what I want to see." he said happily, rubbing his hands together like a child who had gotten the candy he wanted. "Begin.", he said as he walked away to somewhere behind the camera. Video began playing on the ceiling above her head of Sherlock. No sound, just video. Sherlock smiling with John. Sherlock sitting in his chair, typing on his phone. Sherlock talking with John. Subconsciously, she knew the anger she felt was from the liquid the man had pumped into her vein. But to her, it seemed like Sherlock was not even bothering to look for her, to save her from this madness. A single tear managed to escape through the drug induced haze and rolled down the side of her face. It shimmered silver in the bright lights. The last image she saw was Sherlock, standing at a window, just staring out. The drug sent her system into overload and she began to have a seizure. The man standing at her head, grabbed her, making sure that she didn't swallow her tongue or bash her head in. The camera caught it all, Moriarty thought happily, this should be a great start to the second half of his game.  
He turned toward the camera, speaking directly to Sherlock. "Are you dying yet, Sherlock? Or have you given up yet, knowing that I could just as easily destroy you as well?" he asked. The camera turned back to show that Leigha had stopped having a seizure and was being checked out by a faceless doctor, before being thrown back into the small cage. "Cut. Let's edit this baby to send to Sherlock." Moriarty snapped. He didn't want much edited out, the recordings were just too good to end up on the cutting room floor, so to speak. So it wouldn't take long to get it done and get it delivered to 221 B Baker Street. He couldn't wait, this was almost as good as Christmas.  
Sherlock stood slightly back from the window, not really seeing anything outside of it. It was 4 in the morning, when the doorbell rang. John walked past the non-moving form of Sherlock, sighing. There had been no leads, clues, not even a peep of chatter. It was quiet, as if the criminal world was waiting with a held breath for something. But what?, John thought. He hurried down the stairs to the door before the person rang again and woke up Mrs. Hudson. Odd, John thought, opening the door to find no one there and no one walking away down the sidewalk in either direction. Turning to come back in, he saw it. A CD taped to door near the knocker. John yelled for Sherlock to come quick. Sherlock swung around from the window, rushing out the door to their flat, and down the stairs. Taking the stairs two or three steps at a time, "Don't touch it.", he commanded. Knowing full well that John hadn't and wouldn't. After inspecting the CD, he instructed John to call Lestrade while he called his brother.  
By the way Lestrade heard Sherlock talking in the background, he wondered if Leigha's abduction would land Sherlock into a padded cell. Mycroft thought Sherlock had lost it, listening to Sherlock speak so fast that most of it was incoherent. Lestrade arrived moments behind Mycroft, who had already been notified the moment Sherlock had moved from the window and headed to the door. The four men stood in the hallway just staring at the CD. Mrs. Hudson,who had been woken by the bell and appeared behind them suddenly, clear her throat. "How about some tea while you all decide whether or not to watch it or to fingerprint it." she suggested. The men nodded as Sherlock removed some latex gloves from his dressing robe's pocket, using them to remove and handle the CD. Knowing that it had to be from Moriarty, it could be poisoned or anything equally crazy. Moving up the stairs the men silently debated between them as what to do about the silver disc. Finally Sherlock spoke, "No point in finger printing it, he would not of left any. Nor would any of his henchmen.  
Sherlock popped the CD into his laptop, while the others gathered around. It opened with Moriarty's smug face, wishing that Sherlock enjoy the show. Sherlock's only wish at that time was he could beat Moriarty's face in. The men stayed silent as the sounds of torture and Leigha's screams rang out through the room, along with the sounds of her fighting back. Sherlock remembered seeing that the CD was labeled Week 1. Here was a weeks worth of torture nicely condensed into a neat little package. The video got so bad that Mrs. Hudson had to excuse herself with tears in her eyes. The men hardly acknowledged the poor woman as she walked away. "Sherlock, just stop it." John pleaded. "No." Sherlock responded, no emotion to his voice. The words his brother constantly saying to him, that all lives end and all hearts are broken and that caring was not an advantage, kept replaying over in his head. "Sherlock, stop punishing yourself." Mycroft said, hoping to get through to his little brother. Lestrade leaned over Sherlock to turn it off, when Sherlock got up. "Excuse me.", he said, still showing no emotion. "Sherlock..." John called as Sherlock walked off to his room and shut the door.  
Sherlock sat on his bed, absorbing what he had just witnessed. Leigha's screams and the sound of her torture would haunt him, if he ever went to sleep. Something had to give, Sherlock thought, his anger surfacing quickly. He sprung from the bed, proceeding to destroy the room and its contents. He needed to destroy something, anything, to release this terrible pressure in his chest. Hearing the commotion coming from Sherlock's room, John and Lestrade burst through the door with Mycroft just behind them, the men shocked at the amount of destruction Sherlock had managed in a short amount of time. Sherlock headed for the bag that he and John had packed with a few of Leigha's things, still tearing the room apart. Lestrade grabbed Sherlock from behind, locking his arms around Sherlock's torso effectively trapping Sherlock's arms.  
Sherlock saw what he was about to do and almost instantly calmed down. "I'm fine, Gregory, thank you, but you can let me go now." he said calmly. Letting go, Sherlock walked past the three men staring at the destruction. He had to finish the DVD, there could be a clue in the video. He grit his teeth and started the DVD back up again. It picked up where it had been stopped. Sherlock saw Leigha now strapped to a table, injecting with an unknown liquid, with video playing above her, it was of him. He noticed that most of the shots were older, from just before he started this journey. The last shot he saw was of himself staring out the window, not moving. His heart broke when he saw that Leigha began having a seizure from the liquid she was injected with. Moriarty would pay, Sherlock thought. He just had to find him first. He couldn't leave her in the madman's hands any longer, he hoped that his homeless network would hear something. The three men had wandered back in about the time of the seizure, Lestrade and John's eyes misting as they watched in horror. "What have they done to her?" John asked. "Don't know, but if we can find them, hopefully we can get a sample of the liquid and find out." Sherlock answered. Mycroft asked Sherlock for the CD, hoping to have it analyzed. Sherlock quickly ripped a copy, then handed the offending disc to his brother. Mycroft said his goodbyes and left as quickly as he came, hesitating only a moment wanting to say something to Sherlock, but didn't. He had no idea what to say, no idea how to help his brother deal with what he may be feeling. Sherlock knew his feelings on emotions.  
Sherlock moved to his chair, steepling his fingers while he thought. Lestrade also said his goodbyes, telling John to keep him updated and that if they heard anything that he was there to help. John turned to Sherlock, "Are you alright?" Sherlock looked at John, "No I'm not. I want to destroy Moriarty." John nodded that he agreed, Leigha didn't deserve the treatment she was receiving. Sherlock moved back to the laptop, bringing the video back up. "Oh, Sherlock, don't." John said softly. Sherlock shook his head, "No I saw something, I just need to make sure I saw what I saw." Sherlock pulled up the exact scene he was looking for. "There, right there." Sherlock pointed out. John looked close as he saw a silvery shimmer slid down Leigha's face. "A tear?" John asked curiously. "Yes, a single tear. She is still her, just locked inside her own head." Sherlock answered. "What do you mean, locked inside her own head?" John then asked. Sherlock began to explain that he felt sure that Moriarty was trying to brainwash Leigha, maybe trying to turn her into something else than the sweet person she was. Sherlock hoped he was correct, because it could be undone. John bid him good night, stating that they needed to try and get a little sleep. Sherlock waved him off, stating that he would nap on the couch. Sherlock spent the rest of the early morning pacing and thinking, taking breaks to doze on the couch like he told John he would.  
When Sherlock decided to give up trying to rest, he went out. Maybe his network had some answers. As he walked down Baker Street, he noticed a woman walking towards him. Her walk was so like Leigha's that his heart skipped a beat. The woman pulled a phone from her coat pocket, looking at what was presumably a text, since she did start speaking into the phone immediately. I'm giving you your treat. Heading towards you now. Keep him busy until time. With her head canted down, she looked up through her lashes to see none other than Sherlock Holmes heading toward her. Lovely, she thought, this should be fun. As they started to pass one another, she grabbed Sherlock. Letting her hood fall back, she kissed him for all she was worth. Sherlock was so stunned, he didn't react as fast as he could have. Finally, untangling himself, he saw that he stood toe to toe with Irene Adler.  
"So how about dinner, Sherlock? God knows I have asked you to dine with me enough." she purred, running her hand up and down his arm. Removing her hand, he asked, "What are you doing here? Should you really be back in London after the last debacle?" She laughed. "Oh you know I like to misbehave, my dear Sherlock." Sherlock frowned, turning to walk away from the woman. The misbehaving dominatrix, he thought. She, of course, kept pace with Sherlock, slipping her arm through his. "Oh come now, Sherlock. Have dinner with me, you choose. Maybe somewhere candle lit and private, just you and me." she tried again. Sherlock finally frustrated with the offending woman, jerked his arm out of her grasp. "No. I'm involved..." he said, trailing off, not wanting to explain anything to this woman. As far as he was concerned, it was none of her business. "Involved?" Irene said laughing, "Oh no, I don't think so. In fact, last I heard, that lovely little American fling of yours went and got herself taken by a very bad man."  
Sherlock took a deep breath, trying to keep his anger at bay. How dare she make light of Leigha's misfortune, Sherlock thought. "She wasn't a fling." he stated simply. A flash of light caught Sherlock in the eyes, briefly blinding him. Once he was able to see again, he jerked his head towards the direction he believed the light had come from, only to see a man with a camera walking away. A little too fast for someone to have not been doing something wrong, he thought. But now he knew how Moriarty was getting video of him. Moriarty obviously thought to place Irene Adler in his way and get some more video of him to use on Leigha. Irene wrapped her arms around his neck, "So, that's a no to dinner with me?" Sherlock disengaged the irritating woman and walked away. Laughing, "Until next time, Sherlock." she called smiling. He turned back, "Until never, Miss Adler, and then even further." Sherlock retorted. He checked his network, no one knew anything.. Everything was still quiet. Damn it, he thought, another week of Leigha still in Moriarty's hands. The madman had been sending him taunts and little snippets of video of Leigha. So far Mycroft's people could find nothing to pinpoint Moriarty and Leigha's whereabouts. When Sherlock returned home, he let John know that they were being watched and filmed, stating it was obviously for Leigha's torture.  
Wrapping up Week 2's torture, Moriarty announced to Leigha that he had a special treat for her. She was strapped back to the table once more, while the camera rolled on catching every tear, every drop of blood, every bruise. They had beaten her. Raped her. Cut her. Broken a few bones as well, she thought from the pain she was feeling from the current session. A man walked up with the hateful syringe. Not even wincing when he jabbed her with it, she knew she was fast losing hope. She was too numb. Two and a half weeks, she thought. Moriarty had been kind enough to tell her just how long she had here, the soul focus of his lovely hospitality, she thought sarcastically. As the serum took effect, video began playing on the ceiling again. What little that was left of Leigha was fully expecting the same video from before. But this time it was a new one, Sherlock in the arms of some woman, kissing her. Leigha's mind shattered, just as Moriarty had hoped it would. She snapped into a few hundred little pieces, a new part of her emerged, slowly trying to piece her back together. "The woman is Irene Adler." Moriarty explained, "Sherlock and her have somewhat of a past." The new Leigha stored the name next to the names of the people who would pay. When she saw the hateful woman wrap her arms around Sherlock's neck, Leigha burst up. She managed to break two of her restraints before Moriarty's men subdued her. The camera and the video were shut off. Leigha was then locked away back in her cage. "It's time." Moriarty said, "Edit the footage according to these directions. Then in two days, drop her off with the boys at Baker Street." He handed the note off to a faceless assistant.  
Having received the newest DVD, Sherlock and John watched in horror. Leigha was in a poor state, they both thought. Not many tears this time spoke volumes of how far Moriarty had pushed her. Sherlock had still heard nothing. Even knowing Moriarty as he did, was no help. It was as if they had both fallen off the earth. A couple of days later the doorbell rang, John looked at his watch. 11 at night and they weren't expecting client, as Sherlock made it clear on his website he was not taking any right now. Sherlock and John just looked at each other, John remarked that it was too soon to be expecting another DVD. "The bell only rung once." Sherlock stated, as if John was supposed to know what he meant. John heaved himself out of his chair and went to answer the door. When he opened the door, he never expected to find Leigha standing there. Well, barely standing, John thought. She had herself propped against the metal hand railing to the left of the front door. "Sherlock..." John yelled, "Come quickly and bring my kit."  
Sherlock, upon hearing John's distress, jumped up. Grabbing John's bag, he headed down the stairs. He looked at the doorway, dropping John's medical bag. "Leigha..." Sherlock whispered, not believing his eyes. "Sher..." she tried, too hoarse to speak correctly. Moistening her lips she tried again. "Sherlock.", she rasped, trying to smile a relieved smile. She shuffled two steps toward the man she dreamed seeing again, John reached out trying to stop her, noticing she was heavily favoring her left leg. Extending her hand toward Sherlock, her eyes began to roll into the back of her head. Sherlock beat John to grabbing her before she hit the floor face first. "My God, Sherlock, she needs a hospital." John exclaimed. Sherlock lowered himself and Leigha to the floor, cradling her to his body. "Can she be treated here?" he begged, not wanting to be parted from her again. "Sadly, no. I'm sorry. She is barely conscious." John said, hurting for his friend and the woman he had become close to. Sherlock nodded, pulling his phone out, calling Mycroft. "I have her, My. But she is in a bad way, she needs a private room, off the books of course. At Bart's." he spoke quickly. Mycroft's answer was just as brief, "On my way, little brother."  
3 broken ribs, a broken left leg and ankle, multiple torn ligaments in her shoulder and arms, deep cuts, bruises, contusions, raped with several severe vaginal tears. The list was long and painful, Sherlock thought. He needed to know what Moriarty put her through so that he could pay the madman back in kind. "How long will she be in a drug induced coma, John?" he asked, after John did a run down of all Leigha's injuries. The doctors figured that it would come a little easier if it came from a friend and not a person who was not involved. "At least a month, all the breaks had not been properly set, so they had to be rebroken to be set right." John explained. "Right." Sherlock started, staring through the window inn the door at Leigha, "Time to go after Moriarty since we have her back and she is out of harm's way." John looked at Sherlock, "Are you sure about this?". Still looking at Leigha, Sherlock nodded. John followed Sherlock's line of sight, "Right." As a doctor, John had seen some bad things, but this lack of concern for a fellow human being he would never understand, and it could not be allowed to happen again.  
Sherlock began taking cases again, while Leigha healed under an anonymous name at St. Bart's. He had stopped taking cases while searching for Leigha. He recovered the Falls of Reichenbach painting, saved a banker who had been kidnapped and help capture Interpol's number one most wanted man. And nothing, not a peep from Moriarty. Until the madman decided to break into the Tower of London, while dressed like a tourist, and donning he crown jewels. He also simultaneously broke into the Bank of England and Pentonville Prison. All at the push of a button on his phone. Moriarty let himself be taken in by New Scotland Yard officials.  
Being called to be an expert witness at Moriarty's trial was ridiculous. Sherlock would rather be wrapping his hands around the man's throat and choking the life out of him. The doctors and John were talking about bringing Leigha out of her coma. She was healing well enough but there would need to be some physical therapy. Of course, being an expert witness didn't work out quite that well for Sherlock, he ended up in jail for contempt. After John bailed him out, Sherlock figured out why Moriarty was able to be caught in the first place. Moriarty wanted to be caught, it was some how apart of his plan. The fools on the jury found Moriarty not guility, John told Sherlock, warning him that Moriarty would be after them all now. Moriarty broke into the Baker Street flat, Sherlock knew he would. After having some tea and some back and forth taunting, the madman let Sherlock know that his time was coming. Moriarty called it their final problem.  
A few days later, the doctors pulled Leigha from her coma. Sherlock and John were beside her bed when she awoke. Her eyes first focused on John, who smiled kindly at her. She closed them and then focused them on Sherlock. She cleared her throat, "I had the worst dream..." she started telling the boys, her eyes drifting closed again. John thought she had checked out on them, when her eyes reopened. She looked at her surroundings and then tried to look at what she could see of her body. "So, it wasn't a dream." she said, as she began crying as what had happened to her sank in. Sherlock and John just held her hands while she cried. Once she wore herself out and drifted off to a restless slumber, Sherlock left to find her doctor. He asked how much longer Leigha would have to be in here. "Well, officially she isn't here, Mr. Holmes. As per your brother's orders." the doctor said, "But to answer your question at least two weeks more, at least, for physical therapy. We plan to have her try and walk some, with assistance, of course." Sherlock nodded, "Well, can she be released and allowed to come back for the therapy?" The doctor was hesitant but said that since she was healing well that it could be a possibility. But they needed to wait and see how she did being awake, that there was bound to be some PTSD issues associated with the trauma of her attack.  
Sherlock thanked the doctor, and returned to Leigha's room. John stood as he entered, "I'm going to pop out for a bit." he said as he walked out the door. Sherlock settled himself in the chair next to her bed, waiting. He knew she would either have questions, accuse him of failure or both. He knew that he could never ask for her forgiveness. Looking down at his hands, he knew that it would be too much. He looked up to see her golden eyes, staring at him. There was no blame, only sadness. "You should be resting." Sherlock said to her. "We need to talk." she responded. "Yes, obviously." he said back, lacking for something better to say. She took his hands, marveling at the strength in them. "I don't blame you, Sherlock." she said, "Moriarty, to me, is a chameleon. He can be what he needs to be, when he needs to be." Sherlock could not argue with her logic. "We will get through this and we will get past this, Sherlock." she said, determination entering her tone to show that there was no argument to be had. As if this was nothing more than a hump in the road, or maybe more like a flat tire slowing them down, Sherlock thought. But she was right, they would get through this together.  
Leigha progressed better than the doctor's could ever imagined, allowing her to leave in John's care. John suggested gently to her that she may, at some point, want to talk to someone. A professional. She agreed that she would when she was ready. Arriving at the flat on Baker Street, Sherlock helped her up the stairs, after she got to meet Mrs. Hudson. Leigha thought the landlady was such a lovely lady. Once they had made it the stairs, John asked Leigha if she would like something to eat or drink. "I'm a little tired." she said refusing both. Sherlock tucked her into his bed, leaving her to rest. Leigha inhaled Sherlock's scent, his entire bed was saturated in his unique scent. She reveled in it. The new part of Leigha would tucked the scent anyway, she would recognize him anywhere now. The serum Moriarty had pumped into her system had heightened all of her senses. Made her smarter and faster. All she had to do was bide her time and revenge would be hers. The new Leigha decided that she would begin with Irene Adler, she just needed to figure out how. Once her physical therapy was done, she would be strong enough to what needed to be done. And hopefully no one tried to stop her, God help them if they did.  
While Leigha was going through her therapy, Sherlock had began working a kidnapping case of two young children. Solving the case and finding the children, was the catalyst to their world beginning to crumble around them, Sherlock thought. Sherlock realized that Moriarty was behind it, especially when three windows in a building across from New Scotland Yard were lit up with letters IOU spray painted across them. Leaving NSY, Sherlock grabbed the first cab he could, telling John to catch the next one, that he needed to think alone. The TV in the cab flashed to life. Sherlock asked the cabbie to turn it off, Moriarty's face flashed across the screen. Sherlock fell silent as Moriarty came in clear and began telling a story. While Donovan and Anderson told Lestrade that they felt Sherlock was involved in the children's kidnapping, the lies began hidden in a little bit of truth. When the message ended, Sherlock screamed for the cabbie to pull over. When Sherlock jumped from the cab and confronted the cabbie, demanding to know how the TV had been changed, the cabbie turned out to be none other than Moriarty. The madman pulled away before Sherlock could question him further.  
When Sherlock arrived home, John informed him, that four assassins had moved onto Baker Street. "Four assassins? There must be something they want, if not we would be dead already." Sherlock responded. All of Moriarty's pieces were starting to fall into place to ruin Sherlock, even the one huge surprise that the consulting detective would not see coming. Leigha came in, awoken by the amount of noise Lestrade was making. "What's going on?" she asked, starting forward toward Sherlock, who was being handcuffed by Lestrade. John pulled her back. Sherlock arrested, she thought, impossible. As Lestrade passed by with Sherlock, he murmured his apology to Leigha, while John hissed at him that Sherlock was innocent. Outside, Sherlock devised a brilliant escape plan to ensure that he became what Moriarty wanted him to become...a fugitive. Taking John hostage, after John was arrested for punching the Chief Superintendent, they ran. While on the run, John and Sherlock noticed an article in The Sun, while hiding in a doorway as the police searched for them. Scanning the article quickly, Sherlock knew they would need to visit the report that had written it and find out who this Rich Brook was exactly.  
"Now what?" Mrs. Hudson asked Leigha, who was sitting calmly on the couch. "Now we wait, Mrs. Hudson." Leigha responded, just as cryptically as Sherlock would have. When Sherlock had gathered all the information her could, he went to Molly Hooper asking for her help. Molly agreed. John went to Mycroft with the papers that he had taken from the reporter and the fake Mr. Richard Brook, who was actually Moriarty. Mycroft laid his sins bare to John under John's harsh stare. As John left, Mycroft apologized and asked that John let Sherlock know how sorry he was. Too little, too late, John thought. Never did John think that Mycroft would do what he had done. Giving the madman Sherlock's background and past details just to get the answers as to where the computer key was hidden.  
Sherlock's plan laid out, he texted Moriarty. Come and play. Bart's hospital rooftop. SH. PS. Got something of yours you might want back. John had returned and was exhausted. Sherlock waited. John's phone rang, waking him from his uncomfortable nap at the lab desk. "Hello?" John said, "Leigha, slow down, what? Ok, Jesus, alright. I'm on my way." Sherlock perked up at the mention of Leigha's name. When John hung up, Sherlock asked what was going on. "Mrs. Hudson has been shot, she's dying, Sherlock." John spoke. "Go, John." Sherlock said. John started to argue with Sherlock, but quickly decided not to. It would be easier to do what needed to be done if John was occupied else where. As John left the lab, Sherlock's phone went off. I'm waiting...JM. Showtime, thought Sherlock.  
Sherlock walked out onto the rooftop of St. Bart's, locking eyes onto the hateful man. Who was currently sitting on the edge of the building listening to music. "Well, here we are Sherlock. You and Me and our problem. The final problem." Moriarty said, as he began ranting about having to return to playing with the ordinary people and about how ordinary Sherlock was as well. Sherlock waited patiently for Moriarty to run out of steam. Their continued back and forth was beginning to grate on Sherlock's nerves. "The final act is upon us Sherlock." Moriarty said, "I'm glad you have chosen a tall building." John rushed in to Baker Street only to find Mrs. Hudson and Leigha standing in the hallway with a handyman. Both women looked surprised to see John there. "Oh John, has Sherlock sorted everything out with the police?" Mrs. Hudson asked. Realization dawned on John. He had been played, it hadn't been Leigha on the other end of the phone. Grabbing Leigha's hand he said, "We have to go...Now!" Nodding, she asked, "Sherlock?" John said simply yes. Dragging her behind him, John rushed out onto the sidewalk and into the street, flagging down the first taxi he sees. Telling the cabbie to hurry to St. Bart's, John explains everything that he can to Leigha.  
Back on the rooftop, Moriarty was telling Sherlock to just kill himself, that it would be so much easier on everyone. Sherlock grabbed Moriarty acting like he was about to shove him over the edge. "You're insane." Sherlock stated. "Oh, you're just getting that now?" Moriarty asked acting innocently surprised. Sherlock released Moriarty, "Okay, let me give you a little more incentive Sherlock. Your friends and love will die if you don't." he said cheerfully. "John? Leigha?" Sherlock asked. "Not just them." Moriarty responded, "But everyone." Moriarty smiled once more, "Four bullets, four gunmen, four victims. There is no stopping them now. Unless my people see you jump." Moriarty straightened his jacket lapels. "You can do whatever you like to me but nothing is going to stop them from pulling the trigger, your only four friends in the world are going to die unless..." Moriarty prodded. "Unless I kill myself to complete your story." Sherlock finished. Moriarty nodded, "Yes, Now you get it." Sherlock thought for a moment, hesitating. "Go on, off you pop." Moriarty pushed, "I told you how this ends, Sherlock." Sherlock climbed onto the edge of the building, looking down at the long drop. "I won't call them off." Moriarty said, as Sherlock hesitated again. "A moment of privacy, please." Sherlock asked. Moriarty began walking away, giving his defeated foe the moment he asked for. Sherlock, looking down, began replaying the words in his head, and began laughing. "What?" Moriarty yelled, spinning around. "So there is a way to call them off. A keyword, a code, a number. And as long as I have you, it can be called off." Sherlock said confidently, hopping down off the ledge. Moriarty stared down Sherlock before offering him his hand. "You are just like me." Moriarty whispered, "Thank you, bless you, Sherlock Holmes. So long as I am alive you can save your friends. Well, good luck with that." Pulling a gun out, Moriarty blew his brains out making Sherlock jump back in surprise. What to do, Sherlock thought, knowing the gunmen were still set up to kill everyone.  
John and Leigha rushing to St. Bart's, Mrs. Hudson alone in the flat, Lestrade at NSY finishing up a phone call. The only avenue left was to carry on. Death. His death or theirs. Easy enough choice, Sherlock thought, climbing back onto the ledge. At that moment the taxi carrying John and Leigha pulled up. Jumping out, John paid the man. His phone began to ring. "Hello?" John said. "John" said Sherlock. "Sherlock, you okay?" John asked, cutting him off before he could say anything more. John and Leigha were hurrying towards the doors of the hospital. Sherlock commanded John and her to turn around and go back the way they came. John argued, asking why. Sherlock could clearly see the confusion on their faces. "Just do what I ask, John, please." he said. John became worried, pulling Leigha to a stop and turning them back around. "Where?" John asked. "Stop there." Sherlock said. John halted suddenly, with Leigha almost running into John. Stumbling, she rolled her eyes at John nd Sherlock's silliness, when she noticed a black figure standing at the top of the building. "Oh. my. God." she whispered, recognizing it instantly as Sherlock. "Sherlock?" John asked. Sherlock instructed John to look up. "Oh God." John started. Sherlock began apologizing to John and Leigha, explaining how everything was true. Everything that had been said and printed. John refused to believe Sherlock, as did Leigha. Sherlock asked John to put him on speaker. "Leigha, I'm sorry, I just can't live with this anymore." Sherlock said. With tears streaming down her face, all she could do was say his name.  
Sherlock continued on talking to John about how he had researched John before he had actually met him. "Oh come on, Sherlock, stop it now." John commanded, starting forward with Leigha in tow. "No! Stay exactly where you are." Sherlock shouted, "Don't move, don't come any further." John and Leigha complied. "Keep your eyes fixed on me." Sherlock said. He begged John to do this for him. What, John asked. This call, he explained was his suicide note in a way. "Good bye John. Good bye Leigha." Sherlock said before tossing the phone aside, while John was still trying to talk him out of what he was about to do. "Sherlock!!" John and Leigha both screamed. Sherlock looked as if he was about to dive into, stepping peacefully off the edge. John and Leigha both stood there, unbelieving of what they were seeing. Sherlock falling to his death. They heard Sherlock's body hit the ground, Leigha buried her face into John's shoulder. Taking a deep breath, she pulled back.  
They began rushing forward when two young men on bikes knocked them down. John and Leigha hit the ground hard. Winded, they both struggled to rise, they had to get to Sherlock. John, on his feet first, made his way to where Sherlock's body lay. Blood was every where. Leigha stumbled after John. He began pushing his way through the crowd of on lookers and first responders. "I'm a doctor, let me through. He is my friend." John shouted. Leigha shoved her way in behind John, her head still ringing from the fall. John grabbed Sherlock's wrist when he got close enough. No pulse. Sherlock was gone. "No, No, No." John moaned, turning towards Leigha. "He's gone." John stumbled and went down dragging Leigha with him. Nearby first responders grabbed the pair before they hit the ground. Seeing the trickle of blood from her hairline, they told them that they would need to be seen. Sherlock was being taken away, there was nothing that could be done for him. John was in shock. Seeing and hearing that Sherlock was dead, the assassins left without harm to any of the four.  
The funeral was a quiet affair. It was only John, Leigha, Mrs. Hudson and Lestrade. Upset, Mrs. Hudson had to walk away, Lestrade following to make sure she was alright. Leaving John and Leigha to say their good-byes privately. "Um, you told me once, " John began, talking to Sherlock's gravestone, "that you weren't a hero. Um, there were times I didn't even think you were human but you were the best man I have ever known and no one will convince me that you told me a lie...there." Leigha took John's hand, seeing how upset he was getting. "Just one more miracle for me, Sherlock, just one, don't...don't be dead." John struggled, torn between walking away and staying. "Would you do that for me...Just stop, just stop it." John said starting to break down. Leigha agreed wholeheartedly with John's sentiments, tears leaking from her own eyes. She stepped forward with John, brushing their hands over Sherlock's stone. John took a deep breath, pulled himself together. As they walked away from the grave, arm in arm, a figure stood some way away from the scene. Not moving and unnoticed in the pair's grief. The figure turned, after watching the pair, and walked away.

**Author's Note:**

> Still a work in progress. There is a second part but I unfortunately have writer's block.


End file.
